Idle chat

My friend D. is a hard working barrister. In the eight years I've known him, he's been nothing but conscientious and hard working. He works hard during the week. He works hard during the weekends.

Last night, after a day of hard work for him and an afternoon at the spa for me, we met up to have a drink in Happy Valley where we both live. D. was telling me how he hopes to make it to the top of his profession within the next five years. This is a considerable amount of ambition he has, given that he is already in the upper echelons compared to his peers. In the past two years alone, the number of cases he has handled has increased threefold. He is set to conduct five trials within the next two months. The hard working man is, however, getting somewhat tired.
"I'd be a much more interesting person if I wasn't a barrister," he said mournfully over his whiskey.
"Nonsense, D., you're still an interesting person," I said. D. shook his head.
"I know I'm boring. I need to find a hobby."
"How about retiring?" I suggested. D. raised an eyebrow.
"I have to work for at least five years for that," he said.
"What about getting a girlfriend?" I said.
"No one wants to be with me for more than a few months, because I cancel and delay and change appointments with them," D. said.
"Ah," I said. We both drank in silence for a while.

"How much do you want to be at the top?" I asked. D. shrugged, but I knew that meant he probably wanted it a lot more than he was willing to admit. He stretched out his hands to emphasise his point as he said, "See, if a woman has two children, a loving husband and a stable job, people say she is successful. But when a man has two children, a loving wife and a stable job but nothing else, people say, 'Oh, he's a lousy lawyer'."
"Well, if you find that unfair, why don't you agree to bear the children? You can work less and make your wife work more," I said, laughing. D. laughed, too.
"I guess I'd rather have to work hard than have children," he said.
"See? There you go. You shouldn't complain, you don't have to go through labour," I said. D. nodded.
"Yes, this equality between sexes is just all talk," he said. "We're not truly equal."
"It's sort of equal, if the woman agrees to go through labour and the man agrees to pay for it," I said. D. grinned as he sipped his martini.
"Make sure you and M. have at least a couple of years to yourselves before you go change your lives to have children," he said.